MARTHA A. JOHN.
"He hath showed thee, O, Man, what is good; and what
doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to
love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ?" Micah.
chap, vi, verse viii.
STERLING GAZETTE PRINT.
Exalted lives have oft been lived,
And beloved (in diverj^ing circles
For godly works in which their lives
But this dear one was all our own,
In oar wor!d
Ours, a wise and true protectoc.
Looked up to ai'oundthe family hearth,
A counselor of inestimable worth —
A strenp-th to any home on Earth —
A iiood latherl
He chose the Christian's earnest
And his example plead unerringly,
''Let othei-s go the way which they
But as for my house, and for me,
We'll serve the Lord."
With contented trust— unusual sweet-
Kindest deeds along her path
Our precious mocher has lain down
Her time-worn staffi
Now all care with us, and grief severest
We must meet alone!
Rest for the weary, mother dearest.
Where pain's unknown.
In reflection, like a panorama
(We gaze through blind ng tears)
Comes this record now unfolding.
Of ninety yearsi
Much in life that seemeth dreariest
riecurreth o'er and o'er
But thy peace and joy, mother dearest
Are forever morel
Ah we miss and need thy tender touches
On oui- silvering hair,
And in the plans of daily life, we miss
True and thoughtful friends, the very
We cherish tenderly,
Yet mother, oh our mother dearest
None can be like thee!
Let pen? catch now the melody
Of treasured words wu'd sino',
Since out upon the changing' soa
Of time, behold the Spring-;
What buds keep cominfr in her train
To burst in pink and green:
She brings such robes for hill and plain
Unknown in Winter's sheen:
There's rose and gold and purple bright
Quivering o'er the sky--
A softer touch to every light
That's streaming- from on high:
The bluejays in their winter nests
Have heard the distant call —
Preparing now to meet, the guests
Of gladnes*, one and all.
The loved and longed for angel Spring
Is moving hitherwardi
Then in the gladsome welcoming
Let there go thitherward
Like incense from the altar rising-
Like sweetness from the bud
Deeds of goodness, kind surprising
And praises unto God!
Jane Grey Swisshelm.
Jane Grey Swisshelm was born in
1815 in Pennsylvania. She was one of
the earliest and a most ardent aboli-
tionist. The first abolition meeting
ever held in Alleghany county, Pa. was
held under the famous sycamore tree
on her place. Charles Sumner attend-
ed that meeting. She was a journal-
ist of ability, and a leader in the
passage of the Homestead law in the
western states. She died in 18.'<4 at
her old home, Swissvale, in Alleghany
An unconquerable cbri-^tian spirit
With tenderness that birthright gave
Was born when Nature crowned with
This champion for the slave.
This philanthropist and able leader
Where far too few with courage
But now her powerful pen has fallen
From an untiring hand I
A rambler strayed through tang'ed
Searching for themes and relics rare
About her far-famed Swissvale home.
Ruins and strangers there!
He found the relics— the "sunlighted
Even the sylvan seat, he found
Fronting meadows and amphitheaters
Of distant hills beyond.
But ail the beautiful born in Swissvale
Died soul and life with its queen!
And what though the urchins of a
Deface and mar the scene —
What though her shrubbery and
Are dying out, here and there.
And vvornout buildings are tumbling
She'll ne'er awake to care!
Her work, her holy mission is finished
Which helped so much to clear the
That a race in bondage might step
That they might all be free!
It is meet that this Scriptural injunc-
Is carved upon her granite slab—
"Speak unto the children of Israel
(So beautifully sad)
Speak unto the children of Isrctel
That they may go forward" it reads!
O, that all may go forward and upward
Her great example pleads.
Resting- here in blissfulness
Amidst the June-time showers
Inhaling honied fragrance
Flung fr )m opening flowers —
From blossoms in the grain fields.
And spicy bloom from trees,
We linger as worshipers
Enwrapped in mysteries.
We breathe the sweet elixir
Of Summer's ble-^sed reign,
And through a slumberous sweetness,
And gladness — almost pain
We inhale the delicate
And unutterable love —
The exhilerating freshness
Sent from field and grove.
Opening corols tremble
In a shower bath like dew:
We plu!k them in their beauty.
Peerless white and peerless blue.
Each adding to a latent charm
Breaking into new delight.
Flooding everv thinking mind
With a holier lig-ht.
Human minds have failed to measure
Id its fullness, this!
A harmony of anthems,
An essence draught of bliss,
Somewhat unknown in language
And all untouched by hand
Yet the soul — the silent spirit
Listening to the warbling birds
And pleasant sigh of breeze
Ascribing praises, (not in words)
Come hither thoughts like these
As blessings for this evening hour —
And Rast, O, in welcome power,
Tne sultry day with leisure ride.
And picnic in the grove
Has passed, with all its loads beside—
Its idlings and its love-
Its hopes, its re^ts. and dreams of the
Sweet as carols in vespers sung!
All's over nowl And in the charm
That twilight hours enfold,
Encircling the quiet farm
In eve's magnetic hold,
(A deepin;^ shade and bird's farewell)
All touch the pen with restless spell.
A mellow pacing in the lanes,
Of homeward marching kine
Prefigures of the life that reigns
Where thrift and peace entwine:
And whistling at his evening chores
The boy shuts up the great barn doors.
The milk is strained in ample cans—
In cool sweet cellars set,
And all the work fur weary hands
Let us at last forget,
And rise to where the spirit sees
A way through unsealed mysteriesi
Prom sunline^, in golden tints and red
Touching! zenith far
Come whispers (though a word's not
Of majesty and powerl
And leaflets on the drooping limbs
Seem hushed in service— stirred in
The birds have ceased their warbles
The sky is set with stais.
And slumber stealing o'er each brow
Like night on silent hours:
And night and sleep a welcome guest,
Call the mind and pea to rest.
Echoes From Kansas
The following lines are founded
upon an incident which occurred dur-
ing the excitement at the time when
the new star for Kansas was pi'oposed
to be placed upon the "Star Spangled
Banner." The people of the south re-
solved that the new state should come
into the Union as a slave state, while
the people of the north decreed that it
should be p edged to Freedom.
Across the flower-decked prairies
Of wild though verdant lands
Along the Osage and Neosho
And Kansas river sands —
Crept the blossom-scented breezes-
Came down the sunlight beams
Illuming aland of promise
In bold explorers dreams'.
We were roaming then (mere children)
Round homes afar away
Unknowing there should rise right there
A fratricidal fray
That would unrivet bands that bound
A weak opjiressed race.
And wasn from off our country's flag
Its nat onal disgracel
Step after step, and year by year
Our country's pulse beat fast
Till scarce a hillside home, but heard
The echoes as they passed.
Then came one morn in autumn
In an Ohio town
When a train upon its eastern run
Had turned its breakers down.
The steaming, seething engine seemed
Impatient to move on;
Coaches were rilled with passengers —
The busy day begun.
Great political excitements
Were stirring- anxious souls —
Men discussed the situations
Disturbing Freedom's polls —
Those efforts through fraud and riot
To plant on Kansas plains
A "peculiar institution"
To curse where'er it reigns!
Voters were weighing seriously
These themes of life or death;
Women too wer-5 listening gravely
Almost with bated breath
When the engine's whistle sounded
Its searehinof. belching blast,
And hasting brakemen slammed tlie
As in and out they passed.
Two active porters climbed the steps.
Bearing most tenderly
A feeble mother, weak with years —
Long life's infirmityl
They bore her to a rear-car.
Each seeming want supplied:
A boy observing every movement
Kept closely by her side.
Watching v/ith keen solicitude
In filial noble ways-
Told their pathetic history
Unmioding blame or praise.
This was his father's loving mother —
Mother with palsied hand
Lately come from the Scottish hi Is —
Their ancestral land —
Came to dwell among her children.
And die among her own.
Passing for this holy purpose
Through all but death alone!
With joyous tears, they welcome her
Into their loving arms —
Protecting love should fondly g'uard
From all external harms.
Her queer fancies were respected —
Her wishes great and small:
The dear mother should be honored
And gratified in ail.
They gave her an easy carriage
With velvet cushions lined.
And two negro maiden servants
Obedient aod kind
Yet she drooped in p inful sadn»^ss
And soon there crossed her miud
A sorb of craze unaccountable-
Strange and undefined!
She chose at last the coarsest food
Her sustenance, dav by day,
And refused the aid of servants
Almost in every way.
Vainly her children plead with her —
Entreaty all in vacin —
And that weary voyage, she plead
To travel back again!
"And she must gar^g back to Scotlana
(The little hero said)
My father would na gang u'i her
So I have come instead."
That which just had neld the people
With a thrill of interest
In far off Kansas, found diversion
Here—ihe gravest, tenderest!
Helpless age appealing mutely
Unto the hearts of those
Who were watching slow developments
So suddenly disclosed.
The scene was sad and puzzling
And hard for men to read;
'•Was there my boy. some nidden cause
Of selfishness or greed —
Some trifling, or hapless secret —
Some individual lack
To drive grandma from her kindred
This tedious journey back?"
"None (the earnest grandson answered
In calm straightforward tones)
Only she could na breathe for Slavery
She said." (Its sigbs and wrongs!)
"She said she could na die in peace
For bluid on father's soul."
Eyes were opened, the truth unveil-d
And O, so beautiful.
They seemingly had gazed upon
A poor demented brow:
But suddenly as if translated,
A very angel now!
Instead of palsied lunacy
In tenement of clay
Behold a grand heroic mind
Unclouded as the day.
She could net breathe for Slavery
Where idle comfort lolls,
Nor bear that deep corroding sin
Upon her children's souls!
She w-ould not lend one finger's aid
Her fellow man to blight:
All the children of Our Father— God
Were precious in her sight!
She'd be buried in the kirkyard
Among unsullied graves,
But not in a land that licenses
A bartering in slaves!!
Over thy fair praries, Kansas
Let soft vespers sweep:
No human chattel is there enchained—
No slave is there to weep!
O, sweet homes in Kansas - historic
Rising prosperously in view.
May never a wrong that stains a state
Poison the air that kisses you!
Around the Evening Lamp
A farmer's home called our Union
To sew for abandoned babes in a Mis-
sion's care —
To work for helpless waifs in deed and
Deep interest was to this banquet-
Matrons with little ones amidst us trod
And in sympathy, their own seemed wv-cO^jU--
We knew of babes clothed in rag's —
And garments now from busy fingers
All striving-— most substantially to
To fling a mite, on the sea of Help-
One mother called to mind, the Winter
The dreariest, despite disj^lays sub-
And never welcome as Summer, or the
Nor as Autumn, with her leaves in
Could there be a difl'erence, in
thoughts like these?
Yet one, who, (with a child upon her
Paused a moment, then said "I love
Winter.' ' — See
That meant better than times for
bird oi- beel
Mentally we saw pictures of her home
In winter evenings, where there may
Disturbances; lamps alight: blinds
All confidence true— loje the bright-
We seemed to feel in waves, ' invisible,
In sympathy with her, and fleeting-
Sweet congenial thoughts, and restful
Dear perhaps as wand 'ring in a
Yes, tonight, I love the Wirter too
from burden freed:
Then let's light our evening lamps,
and settle down to read.
Watching for violets. We love '.hem —
Their wonderful hues —
Their freshness, sweetness and beauty
In purple and blues:
We find them in hedges' seclusions
Garnering their own
Extract from sunbeams, whose intru-
Glint the osage throne.
It is the freshest blossom of the morn.
Though richer "cloth of gold"
In colors wondrously inbora
Doth pansy's petals hold.
But Violet! Violet! in thy meekness
Kvolve thy lessons grand
Since thy existence and thy sweetness
Touch the Builder's Hand!
To us returns the old enchantment.
Now through memory traced,
When first an idle wand'ring footprint
Tracked the unplowed waste —
When first we marked the stirring
Beyond description's pen —
The beauty of this newland's splendors
Ic Nature's untouched reign.
We saw the graceful deer — unwary
In their pastures green
Galloping over widths of prairie
As king in right, or queen,
Until the plowmen came; beholding
Their new wrought charms —
The wild blown meadows, slowly mold-
Into fruitful farms.
So now like mystic spell uprisen.
Seem these violets drest
With power, calling back a vision
From the long-gone past!
We pluck a? then our choice selections
From widely scattered flowers;
Tenderly flow the recollections
Of those precious hours —
Too sweet for obliv ion — for consignmen t
Where coarser moments sleep!
An opening blossom breathes refine-
. A bursting bud can speak-
er loueh the heart with abounding
Not selfishly our own!
O. we're thankful for the violets —
For all the joy they're shown.
My friends and I, on a quiet morning--
Following the vernal season's dawn-
Drove out to greet Spring's angels
Violas round, and setting birds to
Calling softly up from the southland
The gentlest, freshest breath of air.
These were hours of leisure sweet,
Came out to prize what'er there was
Even the herdman's lloek, fat and sleek
Browsing in peace along- the winding
Where the sward is green, seems
In its first new crop to tinge the scene.
And as we drank these living visions
We called to mind once more a far
off scene —
The semblance of a thoughtful shepherd
In the famous coat of many colors
And wandering alone in Sheckhem's
In pastures worn — perhaps untilled.
He strode trustfully on to an uncon-
scious fate —
This great young dreamer, from a
While a preparing Hand in holy grace
Led him step by step to his honored
Impressing us that through w07-('i alone
Are the chosen of Jehovah known.
Sing birds among these Whiteside
These meadow lands are dressed in
The willows' and maples' twigs are all
With sweet suggestions for our
Sing birds, bloom plants: we see and
hear and feel
A share of what these all reveal.
A Drive to Town
Ijeisurely we drove away
Through the autumn scenes of a rest-
Taking the child from his iuippy play
To a town by the river.
Slowly jogged our beast along —
(Sloiv to be sure, but physically strong)
Thi'ough lanes where the wild bird
learned its song
Of praise unto the Giver!
Between hedgerows, g-reen with
Our road-way lay, and amongst the
Where the turtle dove in sadness
Anear her guarded nest.
We passed vervains dressed in blue
And purple asters starring miles of
Blossoms which my little comrade
A roadside gaily dresV.
All so fresh and newly ma-^e.
So perfect in every tint arrayed:
"Who sowed them (the darling baby
This one, and this and that?"
Who sowed them? my own thoughts
Except the Hand that planned the
And built the world wath our destinies
Beyond our divining—
That gave unto clay, a soul
To read and interpret the beautiful.
And keep unmarred, as priceless jeAvel
The casket ever shining.
We entered the market town
Where the road-way flowers are trod-
That sometimes uplift a puny crown —
A weak — a brief expansion!
We noticed hurrying feet
Crowding along the busy market street
To bustling shops, stores, or home re-
Be it cot or mansion.
All these varied scenes among.
The boy keeps saying as we drive along
"Tell me auntie, where these boys be-
Anil Whither are they going?"
My own thoughts keep asking too.
Do they all belong to the just and true
In the varied lines Avhich they pursue—
Their deeds— their sowing?
Here are crowded marts, with men
Handling O. thousands of bushels of
Gathered from the country — hill and
In careful keeping:
Merchants with useful wares
All seemingly absorbed in business
To which farm and town alike are heirs
In continual meeting —
Meetincr on one common plain
To which the high and low must all
The human need of fruit and grain
That every farm's displaying.
O, back again from city noise —
Back to the quiet home my heart
The baby picks up his laid down toys
And he resumes his playing'.
An honest visitor
Eirnestly arou ed —awakened, sat
In a Relic Gather's cabinet;
And he carefully took
And held a seeming pebble to the
"O that is nothing but a triiobite
Struck from a common rock
(Said the Relic Gatherer)
But here is a jewel of ancient art,
Whose strange history let me im-
A worthy theme forthoughtl
See, it is a ring of solid gold,
Designed in figures curious, old,
And mark, how finely wroughtl
It is no modern jewel —
'Twas stripped from the finger of one,
For seventeen long centuries through
In buried palace sat
At rest, in costly embellished room
That proved, alas! the pitiful tomb
Of the desolate I
It was brought from Pompeii!
Examine it well; pause and think:
What terror for those upon the brink
Of that awful hour.
When helpless, trembling, pale with
They beheld the molten lava near
In ruthless powerl
Like feathers in the blast
Were poor man's frail ett'orts feebly
Terrific quakes of the Earth replied,
The molten stream rolled in!
The wondrous city was buried deep
la undisturbed— in dreamless sleep-
Its wisdom and its sin!
Seventeen hundred years!
The curious eyes of this late day
Now pry into the passed away,
Unveiling — bringing forth.
Thoughtfully we gaze on solemn forms
Whose ears have long unheard the
That rock and stir the earth!
Weariest thou of this?
Then come hither into this hall,
View stranger relic, surpassing all
We have yet displayed;
Prepare for wonder! let nerves be
A human mummy: preserved— embalm-
In Egypt's catacomb laid!
Unfold these wrappings; lo
These feet perhaps trod hillsides green
While yet the holy Nazarene
In vocal accents taught;
While Jerus'^lem was yet in youth
Afraid to hear the living truth
That dieth not!"
The trembling answer came
•'But give, give me, pray another sight
Of that seeming stone —that triiobite
Let us gaze on it;
Dear friend, deem me not of careless
Nor believe alas, that I am blind
In wonder's cabinet!
But that remoter era!!
Bring me relics from the first creation
Wrung out from earth's deep founda-
Ere was formed a plan
Of the beautiful, fit dwelling place
Upon this wide world's ungainly face
For mortal man.
'•Nothing but a triiobite!!"
Why, before Pompeii's streets were
Long before the catacombs were made
This relic, wasl
The Ikiilder of the world was there
And spread his footprints everywhere,
And wrote his laws!
This petrified form —
These little fossils— granite blocks
Struck from the deep foundation rocks
By quarry-men's sledge
Are very old! no reckoning true
Can ever guide an idea to
Their marvelous age!
We walk abroad in sheltered ways
To breathe the spirit of these days —
To understand the noiseless strokes
That mark our maples and our oaks,
That glint with gold where hickory
And crimson all the sumac lanes.
Welcome Autumn, with unspent tears
Locked somewhere in thy marching
Imparting sadness to the land and air
Which all our spirits learn to wear I
But new-born life of winter rye
Just catching now the delighted eye,
Sends out its freshness far and near
With beauty for the waning year:
While cornfields gray, perhaps our
Outspread across this country wide
Are wonderful in charms and cheers
In rustling, drooping hursting earsi
And how they strike with tones of song
Every breeze that floats along.
The corn squirrel in fur covering
Which in the early days of Spring
Dug the corn from many a hill
Is stealing from the farmer still:
But no one minds him now, for see
There is plenty for such rogues as
And some to spare, now and then —
Luscious meals for the prairie hen.
And jay and quail (on plenty's plains)
That gather up the wasting grains!
Seldom were gems on Autumn's brow.
Richer than her gifts are now;
Orchards outdo in offering
Their gracious promise of the spring.
Strewing in profusion sweet
A great abundance at our feet:
And acorns in their coats of brown
In quiet groves are rattling down:
Each insect by the season stirred
Is vying with the happy bird.
All nature rich in Heaven's care
Is grander in this bracing air:
All kingdoms of their treasures give
That needy child of earth may live:
Changing tints for the eye to see,
And nil this good for such us we!
O, in the spirit's strange unrest.
Let this gladness be expressed.
Let tongues reveal the free-gift sight —
And we too take our pens and write I
We strive to paint on humble scrolls
Of worship that arrests our souls
Of beams, from which the cloud is
Of nature with the tumult hushed —
Of goodness on our ])athway shed.
Of blessings on the reverent headi
O, how can heart refuse its praise
How rest we thus in careless ways
In scenes of gladness -rural grace
In land of plenty, and in peace?
Sweet voiced pedestrians
Pass up the roadside street,
Picking here and there a wondrous leaf
That flutters to their feet.
Blossom time is over
The scene around is new
Brilliant tintings, in changing color
Are lifted to their view.
Autumn and children meet —
Children in their Spring,
B rushing from their paths, with little
A leafy carpeting I
Springtime in their lives
But Autumn in the year!
And these pictures which this one day
Are adding to its cheer.
Friends' Meeting House
(At Shamokin, Pa.)
We are trudging up a rocky path just
(In remeniscent mood)
A granite path that leads us on and
A quiet hillside w^ood.
We move along in restful calm content,
And kneeling, scrape aside
Brown leaves, dead and brittle, to find
To us "out west" denied.
It is the checker berry — "winter
Pressed closely to the ground.
And is neglected never when it's seen
In haunts where it is found.
O. interesting path — at the summit
For many years has stood
The unpretending Meetmg House of
Anear the shady wood.
Evenings alone in the twilight hour
(The day's deep thinking time)
I return to those grounds, and to our
Old Home (in mind) ytt 7nme.
Like, wnth holy oil annointed,
Soothing human grief.
Moves the hand that's God-appointed
In benevolent relief.
And wonderful, that to the giver
The richest blessings flow,
Uplifting helper and receiver
In the special overflow
Of human kindness —tenderness —
The round of greed, above;
Portraying in truth, a kinship with
Our Savior's love.
Now therefore uur God we thank
thee, and praise thy glorious name.
I Uarouicles, chap. 29, verse 13.
A devoted, discouraged mother
In cheer (all outward) led
A little group of hungry children
Half supperless, to bed I
She lingered there beside her darlings.
With tears kept bravely down -
Told them of other needy children
(More wretched than her own)
Sleeping beneath some sheltering door-
Or in some wind-swept hall,
Clad too thin for the chilly weather,
With no supper at aU\
Thus her listening group, grew thank-
For blessings meager -sweetl
Oh amidst the world's thanksgivings
Patnos and praises meet.
The Snow Finch
Ah, the air is growing colder -
Is full of gloomy haze:
A threat of storm is in the sky,
Complaint on ev'ry breeze;
And look for snow, in answer
Unto the g'lory call;
Perhaps in early evening
The soft white clouds will fall.
The finches flew in flocks to-day
(With fluttering notes of glee)
Like raindrops hailing through the
Or windstorm in the tree,
And singing (was it?) through tlie air
The notes their needs invite.
Hearing perhaps in upper waves
The storm reserved for night!
For nightl And with gathering dark-
What messages float by
With the whistling boreal blast
In melancholy cryl
Are all the creatures in our caring"
In pity sheltered warm?
Home fowls, kine, and faithful Dick,
For hear the fretting storm!
How it grumbles o'er the prairies.
And moans around the door:
Come closer to the stove, sweet ones
While lonely night winds roar.
Where now is the winsome snowbird —
Where rests his little wing?
Dear child, our Father careth
For the little trusting thing'.
The Closing Year
Let us not be as the unthankful are
Who give no praise!
We are bidding adieu to the gi'and Old
That is passing away in the Winter
But see, there are gai'lands around his
For the crowning of the worthy, and
What he says.
He is leaving to the faithful, a memory
Of things well done;
A wonderful content for spirits pure —
For hearts that are rich in joj's that
O, life, built on the rock that stands
With a rent, unknown to the evil-doer —
This heritage won.
He is leaving abuodance throughout
And peace on these shores!
His harvests waved in the freshness of
Were wreathed in promises hopefully
They yielded (with Industry ordered
The garners of treasure, beautiful sight
In bountiful stores!
His orchards on prairie and hillside
Bent with blessino's down:
While the gladdening and the chang-
With pencilings of sunshine streaming
Gave visions of grandeur, and sweet
Fruit tinted and glinted with golden
And russet and brown.
His wild plants too that were scattered
In the hedge and the nook
Kept beckoning lovers out in the breeze
Throu 'h landscapes fair with flowers
and trees —
With sweets for more than the birds
and the bees:
What lessons were studied and read
In nature's book.
Then let us not go up as the thankless
To the New Year's morn!
There are deeds to do. Each act up-
Or takes from the soul its noblest
Accords the heart to its highest praises
Or drowns it deep in the world's wide
Then as the Old Year glides under the
Out at the western door.
And the New comes in from the realms
of rest —
Comes in thiough tears of the morning
Let us. Jet US see that our lives be blest
With the joy and peace that will last
A Winter Storm
Last nisrht in fitful wakeful rest
We listened to the house dog's cries.
The wind kept wailing from the west
In sullen sobs and sighs.
But morning breaks with clouds of
Swirling and sweeping with the
The weather gauge is falling low-
Descending bv degrees.
All Nature feels the sudden change -
The winter's natural call
Screaming over our ])rairie plains
In breathings masterful.
Let si)arrows roost in barns to-night
Thoughtless boys at your common
They come with chirps in half affright
Beliind the banging doors.
Learn by our own nepd of Higher Care!
Let your protecting hands extend
In nerciful kindness everywhere
Where weakness needs a friend.
The Wild Hen
A vernal morning is gladly breaking
la mellow sound
From unseen altat's. and awaking
Through fields around
(Till heart a,nd ear hath caught the
Afar and dim)
A iiild bird's joy— its effervescence —
Its morning hymn!
Over the boundless prairies booming,
Nor harsh, nor strong
But heralding angels, coming
With hope and song —
With treasures of bud and blossoming:
New life beginsi
Sing wild hen, for Sol is loosening
The winter chainsl
Sing, singi Coo out thy glad existence,
Thy wild life wants.
And taste the kernal (sweet subsis-
In joyous haunts:
But hush, oh hushi Thy glad voice
It was too sweetl
A hand has grasped the cruel rifle.
And restless feet
Tread thither! Oh wild birds feeding
In your ranging run,
So beautiful and all unheeding
The sportsman's gun!
A boy returns from the vanquished
But frightened birds that his rifle
To accusers turn.
Within a marble-bounded lawn
And bathed in sunset gleams like gold
Two young- maidens slowly strolled.
How restful seemed the promenade,
For who could push the closed door
To read a guarded sorrow o'er'?
All in sweetness like the flowers
Were they to me -the sisters there
With sunset glintings through their
Neighbors knew that tottering steps
Oft crossed the lawn at eventide
But what eared they to know beside?
At last vx knew the curse of wine
Hovered around and over them
Like snapping flowers from a stemi
Mother and children wept alone
-And uncomplaining, lest a stain
Molest the honored fam'ly name,
Both held the tired mother's hands
While the elder, more fragile girl
Paler grew— more spirtuall
And more quiet and more resigned
As dews distilled from angel wings
Athwart a heart's unmurmurings.
Ah, the new— the new— Jerusalem!
A mother kneels beside a bed.
Her arm beneath a loved one's head.
A wine lost father totters near;
She turns/ror)i him, a troubled brow—
This first-born darling pafshig nowl
A soul disrobing for its rest;
Hush, catch the whisper, low and saa,
'•I'm going, O, O, I'm so glad."
The Beer Cup
Over to the grove land, this morning -
The tall bright trees among
Where wonderful leaves, in adorning
Beckoned and lured us along.
We drove, with spirits enchan^ed
In the glory that fills.
Or pervades the air. sweet scented
Which Autumn distills:
Spread out before us, what greenery
In rye field robes to-day.
What snatches of beauty— of scenery
In its dreaminess lay:
There were stars of purple in masses —
And all fringing the stream:
O .Jordan, what kingdoms it passes,
And what pastures outgleam:
What gardens and housee in- woven
With creepers and vines:
See too, how the sunbeam is golden
In the leaf where it shines!
And see in the midst of this sweetness
Seems charmed into life
A neat little home in its greatnes-sl
But listen! There's strife!
Then oh what availeth this beauty
Around and above
Where nothing seems wakened to
Nothing wanting but love!
The lord of the home in his potions
Is starving his pouI!
He boweth his head in devotions
To the maddening bowl!
Celia Thaxter, the author, died at
Appledore, Isle of Shoals, aged 58
years. She was born in 1836 at Ports-
mouth N. H. She was the daughter of
Thomas H. Laighton, and at the age of
16 married her guardian Levi L. Thax-
ter. Since his death she lived at
Most tenderly we search for Appledore
A little island in the stormy sea;
A histoi'y's woven on that lonely shore
With living thoughts and deeds.
We scan them o'er
On solid earth the hums of restless care
In shop and mill, rolled safely
through the night;
While on the rocks, climbing a light-
A fearless gii4 for years, sent out
A warning light.
And like a saving light that poet mind
(Though passed from Earth) in silent
Is sending still, in written words un-
A help, like from the lamps she
There came to us a season of mists with
A weary continuance of dullness;
All the frost- bitten herbage over the
Sleazy ani wet. Discomfort in full-
But behold the mists are all risen: and
The darkened lowering clouds are
And springing to his feet, impatient
A chore lad like a prophet has
He gazed for a while on the light out-
And on the beauty that Nature was
Then lifted his hat to a reverent head
And went out into sunlight, rejoic-
We had not thought, in his ordinary
Only ordinary care disclosing,
That all of a sudden, we are led to
A divinity there, reposing!
Words are too weak to express (his
The heights and the depths of this
O, grand is the spirit, that thus can be
With the glory thatGodis revealingi
She had passed, we knew, the youth of
A matron unlearned, uncouth in her
Her hair was white with the burden
of years —
Of toil unremitting— worrying cares!
Her garb not fashioned for beauty and
Developeu no charm to her vacant face.
This was Adams. The sad picture is
Of a traveler treading a life-time
On to the end! Oh rudderless, drifting—
Passing her years with no uplifting —
No thought of duty— no ennobling aim
To deepen a Soul's enjoyment in Time!
We thought her heartless- a lover of
But we were too young to study her
Too young to analyze Adams— her law,
The exterior was the garb we saw.
But now in review— looking over that
Many an excuse for her deeds are
There was v/ithal, in surroundings so
A gleam of sunshine, of beauty and
We remember once, as a neighbor
Her low deep window, how he was im-
By the whiteness of her clean ruffled
And open Bible spread out on her lap.
Searching for divinity all alone.
Lifting her voice in an audible tone
In the tongue of her people over the sea
As if Goodness w^ere struggling for
As if dark clouds she were brushing
For a glimpse of God, to none denied!
That one hour seemed holy, but through
Dreadful sometimes were the words
she would speak !
Strange contradictions! Ah little she
But unto that little, perhaps she was
Reviewing those weaknesses now, that
We study in pity, the threads of her
We recall her garden: its pickets were
In the heart of a meadow with dew
And the pathw-ay there from the hard
Was brightly fringed with the mea-
And once we rejoiced as she bade us
And guided us up to the garden gate
And pushed it ajar. O plain to be seen
Among her own flowers, she was the
What a study! A garden beautiful
Wrought by her loving care— untiring
Can a soul be base, though weak in
That can love and toil for the sake of
Far out in the country, in a quiet dell
A family of children were wont to
They knew most of the birds of every
That each new year with the mellow
spring- time came;
They sang- with them, and hummed
with the pretty bees,
And they watched the first blossoms
crowning- the trees;
They knew of the tilling of garden and
Where the sweetness of sunshine was
When the June cherry on the margin
And scented Gaultheria in pine wood
And the purple heath fruit in moun-
Were ready to yield their abundance,
They knew too when the nuts on the
hills should stir
And the tall chestnut should burst its
But all through the lovely springtime's
Andall through tho summer's blooming,
Their busy hands, grew hard with toil;
Paused at the close uf a sultry weary
To see a guest from the distant city —
So free he seemed from their familiar
Could a visitor now. our eyes behold
Step down from mystic streets inlaid
No greater nor wiser could possibly
Than this strange guest, in children's
But long stroQg- years have flown, and
these have told
How that city with its streets as rich
Is tethered by a tie of needs and
To the far off country with its pros-
And city and country — the dwellers
O, are bound by a tie, a duty, a love
Holier and sweeter than mortal can
And near to this Ruler, the reverent
The Old Liberty Bell
The old Liberty Bell that has been
in Independence Hall in Philadelphia
since 1753. has been out of use since
1835, it having been cracked. When
sent to the World's Fair at Chicago in
1893 it was accompanied by four police-
men whose business it was to take
charge of it until its return to Phila-
We passed with the multitude in at the
Of the new "White City" that was
reared of late
Like a nestling- thing
Iq Chicago's arms; and we wondering
To meet what the far-off nations had
We almost closed our eyes, sometimes,
There seemed too much for the alert,
but tired brain
To fully realize;
People of whom we had only known in
Now stood full in life, with strangest
ways and looks
Before our eyes.
Yet in the midst of all, it is queer to
That we lineered long beside a crack-
ed old bell
That rings no more;
The secret: it clanged the possibility
Of each and every future state to be
On Columbia's shore.
Surely, had its strength held on, there
would have ruog
In clarion tones, from its historic
Peal after peal
A notice of Lincoln's glorious decree
Which set the American bondmen free!
A stroke so grand I Old Bell!
And there's another blight, a scourge,
Dominating- o'er our happy land, and
Over all lands behold!
O, when can 7^ew Liberty Bells ring and
To announce that Alcohol's no longer
But is righteously controlled!
Among the Native Wild
Surrounded by fruitful lands — by farms
There lays in the sunshine, a wonder-
Wonderful, since never a ])lowshare's
To have turned the sod down-unplow-
ed — unmownl
It is a farmer's green pasture, and
Was reserved to be trodden by ranging
And hither we rambled, and knowingly
This primeval meadow, which
Heaven's hand hath set
With native flowers. O, the beauty
Decorating with glory, this lonely
In seclusions, they tremblingly stand —
These old-time flowers of the prairie
Herds of kine go trtrnping o'er the
blossom beds — ]
Crushed violets lift in tears, poor man-
But despite the careless hoof, and
Millions yet match the skies, in soften-
Then too, the American cowslip's here—
the Shooting Star
With pendant, drooping blooms: how
lovely they are I
Tender and delicate, and as pure as
Encircled around, entwined with our
With the days we go back to, into the
O, flowers that no hand planted — no
None but the mighty Word that called
them to blow
Richer than the glory that Solomon
The Little Estray
Crowds of people have all trooped by,
Leaving loneliness complete —
Only this little stray cur, and I
The veils of night to meetl
But the clear moonlight in its blessed
Was never lovelier;
And the heavy shadows, where I am
Creep to the open door.
A low snatch of song across the mea-
From some belated boy
Grovvs fainter as the traveler goes
To his employ.
But not alone: angels my ways attend:
There's solace in that thought:
But who'll caro for this, my canine
Thus strangely hither brought?
I look upward with happy trustful mind
Safe in Higher Power,
While here at my feef, to-night, I find
A friend— a little lower —
Gazing up with watchful earnest eyes,
Mute pleadings for a crusti
And can an answered prayer for me
If I refuse this trust"?
Singing at Sunrise
Slow and sleepily and unrested
Rising fi'om a cozy bed
I saw a morning in grandeur vested
Ere the night was fled;
The world seemed new in shadowy
With unfamiliar scenes,
And there was yet an hour for sleeping
For others— in dreams.
But seel I saw the daylight breaking
Forth from the reddening east
And O, enjoyed the great awakening
For man, fowl and beast.
A flock of birds flew from the hedge —
Settled on a pasture bar:
Praising songs burst from that humble
And I was auditor.
Earth's canopy is robed in blue.
Celestial grandeur pressing through!
No hint of cloud is on the sky
And onlj' sunlight sparkles by,
In cognizance of dewy gems
That rests on grass as diadems:
Through bloom and fragrance breaks
this day —
This one sweet, peaceful morn In May.
Her breath where'er 'tis floating- up
Has dipped into some chaliced cup —
Has kissed the sweets from burstiug
Along the hedges —in the woods,
And offers now no joy more sweet
To bathe the brow and lip and cheek —
An offering in morning's hour
Of nectar bath from opening flower.
And angels flying hither — see —
With blossoms for the budding tree —
With verdure for the harrowed plain,
Blessmg all the May time reign,
Be it flower, or be it field
With sunlit promise of the yield.
Be it orchard in flush of bloom
Or thicket with its wild perfume —
Be it young life in shifting scene —
The colt and cilf in pasture green;
Be it bird with plumage bright,
Or sober gray that meets the sight.
Each dowered with a ray divine
That God permits on earth to shine;
All lead us on to ui:iderstand
The movement of a Perfect Hand!
No pen can write these blessings out
Strewed here and there, and round
Then catch them heart, or soul or eye
Ere all'the-e fleeting gii^ces die —
O, catch and hold and live these charms
The glories of our farmers' farms —
Shimmering leaves — meadows — grain-
Ere they are gone beyond recall!
Let's breathe this essense breath-di-
For thi'ough it all doth goodness shine;
Enjoy in full this scented air —
A fragrance that is floating tliere
Until the soul of song be told,
Until the spirit be controlled,
Arising like this wondrous air
In song, in praise, in prayer.
A Sonnet for June
Awake my harp, thy strings attune
And warble now, the lays of June;
Call in from cloud and sky and air
A. touch of wonder roaming there;
O, seal with pen this loveliness
Before the fleeting splendors pass;
Grasp a sense of the waving rye.
And the barley ere its beauties die!
O. bird, and song, and fruit and bloom
Crowded in this month of June!
All through the vaulted space above
Outshining, fleecy cloud drifts move
Over— over, in masses rolled —
Seem sporting with the great sun's
Basking in light, to us appears
Until they shed their freight of tears,
Binding fast in glorious glow
Tender clasps for the arching bow!
O, hail beauteous promise, thrown
Across the lovely skies of June.
There's the brown bird, and how he
The song thrush with his melodies;
He clothes, (it seemeth so sometimes)
That song with sounds of fairer
Wafting along- through pui'ple air,
Astrange to woe, astrange to care,
Lulling in peace, the ear, the heart.
So free from every jar of art
And fresh with every trill and tune
TrembliDg in the joys of June.
Amid the foliage, rich and green.
Of the cherry, (now our queen)
And peeping out like bashful eyes
Within the midst of mysteries
The juicy red ripe fruitage glows.
As the mewing catbird knows.
Dangling on some distant limb
One half in hope, and half in hymn.
O, birds take now your luscious boon
Kipening in the suns of June.
There too are rare plants in the lanes
Where first the sweet wild rosebud
And where wee blossoms in the path
Are sweet as any garden hath;
While maidens in their evening stroll
Are coming home with baskets full,
With rapturous tales of golden shades,
And wondrous blue in grassy glades.
Of pearly white, and dark maroon
All in this joyous month of Juno.
Oh dear great Hand, that made ihem
And blest the world so beautiful;
Remove the veil from blinded eyes
That in the way of Progress lies;
Teach hearts to see this lovely Light,
This goodness, so serenely bright,
And lift the weak all strife above
Into the fullness of Thy love
To life that's life. Such glory shown
As figured throug-h one day in June.
Spare the Birds
A beautiful ])igeon (ranked with the
In nest makinof skilled,
Is busily buildinuf, we believe
Where we would, she should build.
Her pinions, are they grey, or are they
Or a mingling- of both —
With a glimmering of bronze at times
In the plumaging growth?
Bird beautiful and time-honored-be-
Such as Noah sent forth —
And later, the carrier from Nansen
In the drear icy north.
A sportsman went to a shooting last
week — •
A game he surely lovesl
He carried a cage of imprisoned birds:
We fear tbey all were doves!
Their presence in our midst is peace —
A peace to understand:
And in their innocency, they seem
So near the Maker's Handl
What il the needless misery that stains
Breawu of the bleeding dove,
Should place a check on the ruthless
With a scar for the heart of love?
Great wide fields of tasseling maize
A promise richly sown.
Are offering to the admiring gaze
A beauty all their own.
We watch the graceful stamened top —
We note the silken hair
And see (though slowly creeping up
Life for a golden ear.
All these v/e value, deeply stirred
Among such gifts of green;
We see the butterfly, the bee and bird
Commingling in the scene.
Peace and trust; love and happiness
Form canopies around
A foretaste see of perpetual bliss —
A step on holy ground.
But our surroundings change. Oh
Will ours be cloud, or sky?
We're in the midst of things so pure —
But now we hear a cry!
Already there is suffering'.'.
Ah from the willow's bough
My brown thrush has fallen that came
A happy bird till nowl
Phis wounded pet a child brings in
(Some neighbor shot in fun)
In smothered tears our eyes survey the
To him a thoughtless ooel
What ails the sense that can enjoj'
Such needless suffering?
Only a bird that some one's boy
Brought down with broken wing!
Along the Buffalo
In the plea.-:antest part of June
We sauntered there one afternoon:
We/o«r sat down upon a rock
While round us romped our little flock
Of children, restless, laughing, gay
In childhood's bright unclouded play:
O, keen enjoyment— unawares
With happiness so truly theirs;
They picked the pebbles from the brook
And all their hands could hold they
Esoied in wat?r. slightly ben*-..
The pearly bloom of an arrow-plant —
Reaching for it with merry cries.
They snapped it off —a rare surprise.
Then they strove for the lily stem
That safely held his cap fmm them
Quivering like a golden boat,
Upon the quiet Dam afloat!
O. young life, tramping o'er the bluff'
With prattle, song and shout enough.
And romp, and race! — Our little flock
Wearily return to us — upon the rock!
We sat and watched them (thoughtful,
With garnet fragments splash the wave.
But thought of scenes that interpose —
(Enacted ere th^ir ."uns arose)
Between the then and now whose light
Is fresh again before the sight.
In retrospect, we two returned
To where those winter visions burned
In record strong — indelible
Upon the tablet of the soul.
That fierce winter in all its charms
With months of snow borne in his arms
Came down on wings of fleecy white
And drifted to our dell al night:
It barred without, the great world's din,
And shut us quiefc inmates, in'.
But in exchange of thought, our band
Pound riches rare at its command;
With Fremont in his aims and hopes
We climbed with him, the mountain
And on the calm Pacific strand,
Seemed at times with him to stand,
Exploring canons— trails— seeing
What stirred and thrilled a great ex-
But Time wore on -the Volume
A thirst awoke for something new:
Then came postman (fresh interest)
A long delayed and weary guest.
What tidings, as the mail-bag whirled
He brought us from the outside world;
New thought came in, like fresh repast
But the winter time grew long, at last I
We learned to watch for meteors.
And often heard the storm's guitars;
And strange what zest a wolf's wild
Can throw into the midnight dark;
Eyes peered through the gathering
For a single glimpse of his shaggy
But the hungry whelp, he went his
Was gone before the break of day!
A.t last, at last, in our cozy home
We longed for the first dear signs of
the Spring to come.
One eve we marked as the sun sank low
A rosier tint on his pathway glow.
And higher in heaven, his circle lay
As he rose to climb the skies next day;
The blue jay screamed with a shriller
And the frost let go the streamlet's
The snows uncapped the bluff bank
And dripped to the sleezy pools below *
From ample roof, and from window
Dropped melting mass like crystal
O, 'ere we thought, the Spring'ssweet
Came creeping down our lovely dell —
Nursing beneath the sunniest sod
Hepatica's pale impatient bud-
That flushed in bloom, a keen surprise
Amidst the Winter's last goodbys!
The meadow then, where the icy sheen
Had lain so long, assumed its green.
And welcomed soon, with a loving hold
The cowslips in their robes of gold!
O, day by day so rapidly —
There seemed no end of things to see;
Such new strange plants of every shade
Starring- afresh the long neglected
And new siraage trees (now known so
Hung out their catkins in the dell;
The wind flowers came, and lost their
As cypripediums burst in sight;
While overhead, from bough to bough
Wild vines kept wearing through and
Their fleecy threads on the wildwood
With all their graceful loups in bh^om.
Prairies through centuries of sleep
With undeveloped wealth —treasures
Lay spread out around— beautiful —
Subduing heart— reflning soul!
And welcome, welcome, all that's good
Let i^rojress stand where waste once
Let wheat fields wave —let corn be
Where only tangled grass was known
And as the years go fleeting past
Remember this, we've loved them all,
the first and last.
In from the fields, and from lowlands
In from the fragrance of summery air.
We sat down one day in a restful chair
B} an invalid's side!
Our miods seemed out in the meadows
•In the midst of gladness where we had
And our hearts were full of the things
we had seen
And heard and enjoyed!
Oh, oh (thought we sitting by her side)
Is every good from that head denied,
Pressing the pillow from side to side
In restless dream!
Never a tread through the ample yard —
Never a footstep on the grassy sward.
Only a bed, but firm faith in the Lord —
A reliance on Him!
Sad thinking beamed from those lus-
In questioning-, and jwudering replies,
How soothing that tender memories
Came thronging on.
"Out through this window (she said)
afar '•" i ■ ■ ■
Over tield^ of grain —and how lovely
I see visions of beauty sweet and fair
As in years agonel"
Near her stood a vase with fresh sup-
With blossoms sweet— of the deepest
She saw our glance, and there came to
A mist of tearsi
"These are tokens of sympathy and
And each little petal in chaliced cup
Lifts a message of blessing — comfort up
Though unawares —
To dear givers, as well as to me"
None do a kindness, we're learning to
But they too drink of that, (that's offer-
As a fountain of light.)
All those who strive for another's gain-
To relieve and soften sadcess — pain.
Grow nearer like Him, whose angels
Iq Rest and Right.
Visiting the Old Home
Why should the romance of common
Ordinary in its peace and strife
Cling to the memory (tempest tossed)
When much that we'd keep and hold.
It must be for a purpose, displayed^
The changing contrasts of light and
Just now in review, how strange it
That one forgotttin, so fills thfse
One like the oak, whose hist' ry is found
Rooted figuratively in the ground,
Plodding through daily toil, o'er and
As she did for years and years before
In patient rounds.
After years of wand'ring and sojourn,
To these valleys we once more return
To where in happy, though by-gone
We watched the resinous pine-knots
Upon the Hag-stone hearth. Even then
Our neighbor Sophie seemed old as
(That is in her ways) we find her now,
Deep worn wrinkles on her sun-tanned
We met her as one day we drove
Upon the highway, down the hills we
Smiling as she tugged her grocery load
Afoot, on the old familiar road:
The high noon sun with blistering heat
Burned the red shale earth about her
Where she stood.
Meeting lier thus is what made it seem
As though twenty years were but a
That we were back again with tears
Back in Time as well as back in miles!
But the gentle hands that here we
And eyes suffused with tenderness
Ignore the cha-nges on brow and hair
Though the full receipts are written
Like halos of beauty round us thrown
Is the love that we have always known,
So true, so swcit. unsullied as day
Which Time in his flight snatched not
But left it, sweetest jewel of all
When he took our youth beyond recall
And streaked our locks in gray!
Hallowedmemories, these valleys hold-
Countless charms to us they yet unfold.
Here glides Roaring creek, still hem-
Whose channel romantic — granite-
Continues dark in its thick damp shade
Verging among spruces d'lwn the glade.
Where a long-time friend in loneliness
(She unconscious of isolation was)
Dwelt amidst sublimities divine:
Her life happier perhaps than mine!
Let's hold once more in memory's
The ful'est sweetness of this hour:
Let the mountain breeze our temples
With holy goodness like a wave
In Summer shower.
We have trod o'er prairie wastes, and
Where all that God has made, seemed
Where Nature's lavishing hand be-
As fair a flower as ever grows,
And stretched a surface grand and
And what human needs have been sup-
The summer's golden grain now har-
And rustling cornfields promising
Boundless ranges for colts and kine
Are added gifts from hand Divine:
Thankless soul arisel Dumb heart pray!
Behold these blessings on your way.
So fraught with peace, and free from
But forgive us, if we dream of hilk
They're here in our midst— the early
birds of Spring.
Hopping about, peeping, chirping and
Alighting here and there, awake with
all their might
And where — we wonder where they'll
choose a building site.
The red-breast robin continues a low
And we think she'll choose for a home,
some apple limb
Where moss will be carried, and dead
grass and leaves.
And thus her home will be sweet in
the apple trees:
Five little white eggs, in time that
queen will own —
Or seven at most all spotted with deli-
, O, right here by my house, my welcome
Please build, (trilling and singing) thy
Work and whistle among my shrubs —
And offer to us free, a Spring morn
O, makers of glad music — ah little
We would that never a woe should
come to you!
My neighbor has a field of clover
In thrifty nodding flowers;
And is it strange, such fragrant sweet-
Should be so fully ours?
Now all the cool lanes in the country
Rampant are, with their wild show!
They seem the i*arestof great gardens —
Blue and golden, and white as snow.
And all these, as we pass and re-pass,
Are ours— yours and mine!
They all are free! God's great handi-
With every touch divine!
O, ours with every sense awake
To recognize the gift;
And base the mind that can reject
A glory thus bequeathed!!
A Little Lesson
A cluster of mints in a quiet pasture
And it flourished and blossomed, yet
no one knew
Until disturbing pressures from a heavy
Trampled rudely down, each lowly
Then came a delicate sweetness, and
Announcing the presence of this fra-
Here is a lesson, like a breath from
Forgive! forgive! that we may be for-
In Memoriam: J. H.
When (.'IcHuls around are grim and gray,
And our hearts despond,
How strengthening to see and feel
Ilhimined rays that sometimes steal
From "silver linings" that reveal
Gories yet beyond.
We knew a worker, true and strong-
Strong in giving,
"Who strove to lift, with conscious power
His fellow creatures kindly o'er
Chasms of woe, unto the shore
Of higher liviniil
But now beyond the things of Earth,
That one is riseni
Whate'er the miracle of dying is —
Wbate'er there be in mysteries,
A glorious crown is surely his
In scenes elysianl
Tears may announce translations
Of the dear departed:
But to the realms supremely blest —
Into peace and everlasting rest
We know that barque has safely passed
With the angel-hearted.
In Memory of J. P.
(Of sterling, III.)
One less in the Cnurch militatant
Missed from an earnest band
And one more, triumphantly
Safe in the spirit landl
A beautiful gathering home
In close of Time's last stage.
The pangs of every suffering
On earth's great pilgrimage
Thrown aside — the care laid down
And "all is well — rightl"
As the passing spirit seeth
In unclouded Sightl
It matters not what tired paths
The faltering footsteps knew,
The crowning of an upright life
Has helped the faithful through.
Under the shade of evergreens
In sweet undying trust.
Is laid the precious clay to rest
Beside its kindred dusti
Twenty years before, and we
(Some now with silvered hair)
Stood here beside his mother^ s grave:
In silent prayer.
The wildness of the prairieland
Was full of nature's grace:
And then no fence— no line was drawn
About this burial place;
The youthful city just beyond
In its upspringing stride,
The children of this mother's care
Had welcomed to its side.
And like a portion of its life.
And knitted with its growth
Is he, who's laid this burden down
For an immortal youth!
From different vineyards round about
Our Father's children come
And stand in reverent silence near
A brother's closing tombi
One less in the militant church
Missed from an earnest band
O, one more, triumphant soul
Safe in the spirit land!
Tth Mo., 28th, 187«>.
A remarkable story in Scripture
Seemingly illumined in light
Is clothing a pen with expressions —
With beautiful visions, to-night.
'Tis the record of Naaman, a captain
In the martial hosts of the king —
One honored greatly with distinctions
That triumphs in battle may bring.
But above all these worldly illusions,
It seems a little Hebrew slave
Brought unto him a safer glory
Than all his deeds of valor gavel
And Bible records extending onward
As our mental visions rise.
Unveil to us the solemnity
Of her tender pitying eyes —
As she studied so reflectively
The plague upon her master laid!
Which all human healing failed to
Thus saw the captive Hebrew maid.
The raiss ion of her Syrian bondage
Right here transcendantly appears;
Then in wisdom's unselfish pleadings
And tenderness, akin to tears
She speaksl "Would that my lord were
with the prophet—
(A suggestive little prayer)
— With the prophet in Samaria."
Surely there would be healing there!
So he came to Elisha — (this captain)
Came to the prophet, as we read,
Who taught the afflicted Syrian
That the true God —is Lord indeed!
Rut the prophet's mandates were so
— Simple and so easily tried
That the haughty Naaman d espied
In his weak and \vorldly pride!
The world still owns lofty minded peo-
Who might aid any Christian call
Should this come unto them in v/oaders;
But sometimes such depise the small.
Yet this leper learned an obedience —
Crushed out his needless — helpless
Bathed in the waters of the Jordan
And came forth humbly purified!
Over the fields, the sunbeams are
In through windows of sleepers beam-
With cheering light;
And on distant plains the fowls are
Awakening toilers sweetly dreaming
Visions of night.
O, get up busy farmer, 'tis morning;
Dew sparkles in matchless adorning
Over the plain —
Has fallen in silence without warn-
And even the pastures are turning-
To deeper g'reen.
The skies too are bluer and serener
All the fields are fresher and greener
Than for many a day;
A thrush is sing'ing— have you seen
Is caroling anear our window
And floats away!
There's been a dash through the night
Bathing this beautiful land of ours —
— This bountiful land;
Now where the tenderest of sunlight
Look out for life in delicate flowers
On every hand —
Along moist fence-rows, nodding their
And there are young voilets in shelt-
Asleep in the grass
Out in the meadowt", where their wild
But the children find them in their
tramps — their treads
As they leisurely pass.
They wor 3 bringing to us those fresh
All the way in from hedges and
Such sweet bouquets!
Dear children of these neighbors of
Going before and after the Showers
To hedp-es and by-ways!
They knew how we had liked t .e wild
So they picked them, the early con <irs
On their way to school;
And now right here in quiet offering's
This gratefulness lives for the sweeter
That keep life's pathway full!
We ask each year, when the flowers
We ask dear friends when we'i'e
thinking of you —
Whether kind thoughts return
What is holier in our checkered lives
Than the help which a loving f^^iend-
And no deceit is worn"?
A Child Orator.
An audience was expectantly awaiting
The rehearsal of a child
Who held the hands of loving parents,
Whether he could give delight — •
Please an audience that night.
Toward the interesting boy all
thought seemed drifting
With a wave of interest;
He stepped briskly to the rostrum,
( W ith a start of deep surprise
At the crowd) his frightened eyes.
'Twas a picture worthy of an artist's
Of a writer's graceful pen,
And continues in returning, since that
With every outline free,
An ottering to memoiy.
He stood like an orator — his fine eyes
An unconscious tableaux there;
Then slowly bowing (a shapely head
Burst out sobbing in child alarms
And rushed back to his father's arms.
Inexperienced children must sometmes
In hard tasks before them laid,
Like to us who daily need a holy altar
When heavy our burdens grow
In life's turmoil, sorrow, woe I
A few tender words of whispered
Brought the boy to his feet again,
' "If papa will go with me." The
spell was broken —
The father drew wisely near —
His boy knew no more of fear.
Ah boy what a lesson from thee are we
Studying scenes before usi
Oh all that's for us, let our hearts be
On life paths, with God's outlining,
May a steadier light be shiningl
So that we may live, that a Helper
— Our Father may be near us I
For lo here is where the light sui)ern-
la the midst of every throng
Makes willing workers strong.
By Their Fruits
Ye shall know them by their fruits*.
(St. Matthew— Chapter VII.)
A thorny, cumbrous plum tree holds
A part of our garden ground:
But bye and bye, when bloom unfolds
Scattering sweetness round.
What a vision of beauty, in flaunting
Will entice the bee in his wander-
And as the varied seasons come
And go right onward from the Spring
There'll come to us the luscious plum
In sun-tingled coloring.
O, thorny tree, we have learned to
know thy fruit
And ask no fairer one as a substitute .
Then child of this life, ponder well I
Profession is only a name:
The deeds we do are what will tell,
No matter what we claim:
Every word and act to the surface
Is the ripened fruitage of some latent
Many years ago, in centuries gone
There sat upon the Persian throne
A monarch who in Sacred Writ, is
As the king, Ahasu-^rus.
We scan his history, that we may trace
Some great uplift for the human race;
He held the power: but the help and
Were Vashti's, Esther's, Mordica's!
The royal palace in its flash of light
Shone, we're tc^d. with gold and
And the pavements there were marble
(so they write—)
Were black and i^ed, and blue and
But the king sipped with friends from
cups of gold
The wine that such in abundance hold,
And like Esau, his blessea chances sold
To inebriant appetite!
Feastings went on, though the Scripture
'•Look not on the wine, when it is
Orinking went on as the appetite led
With favored nobles and princes;
That carousal reached to the seventh
(So w^e read) till the wine in its way
Held over the king, a dominant sway
Blunting— enslaving his sensesi
He bade to his presence, Vashti, the
That her wonderful beauty be seen —
That she a part of his splender, his sheen
And his riches, might shine.
But she, with a loftier sense endowed
And perhaps in mortification bowed
Refused to face the maudlin crowd
DrinkingI And drunken with winel
Amongst The Freedmen.
Right here in a land of Free Schools—
These great chances for all in life
Who strive with an honest, earnest
Right here in the midst of all these,
Comprehend the dearth of real poverty
Known in the land of oppression
In the midst of mental darkness I
Yet right here in the midst of these,
(Greatest of opportunities)
Many bow to the habit of drinl:, and
TJ emselves in thraldom, low, degrading
To this master! Thus they ruin and
Their heaven-born chances in life
And become as fettered slaves!
Wine and Slavery, twin blights! They
Mingle in oppression- -in wrong!
A portrayal reaches us from the South-
Fresh from lields where missionaries
On for others, that the down-trodden
And the pitifully blinded
May be aided to see.
This portrayal is of a lad
Born low with those arising- nov
Fr( m Vassalage into Freedom. While
From-the darknessof servitude— slavery
Into the brilliancy of accorded riphts.
Many see but dimly at first,
Grasping the precious boon!
'Tis as passing from darkened rooms *
Into a great fullness of light:
Cm we marvel that unguided brain
So often fail, and that strong men like
Should also (thus blinded) sometimes
The loveliest buds of promise
In their first unfolding beauty?
The parent of this lad saw not
Nor understood yet, the dawning —
The sure, glad in-coming of a new Era
Far their people! But this child — this
Awakening to his human rights and
And strong in faith, saw wistfully
The ripening harvests ahead!
Catching the Alpha and Omeg'a
From the lips of careless comrades —
The a, b, c, imperfect and uncertain,
Yet nursing in brain the mystic key of
He plants his feet upon the ladder's first
What power now can keep him down?
Neither rags, dirt, nor denials!
Pleadings may die away in air.
Petitions for breadth, be refused —
May though meant in kindness, be re-
And refused and denied too long! The
Breaks the trammels his restless eager
Bear him on to higher fountains
And to guardianship more healthful.
Now upon the Christian portals
Of the Freedmen's inspiring school
We find this prophetic touching revela-
The Negro child, dark visaged, gazing
Upon one pale brow within, whose word
And yet the whole band of children
Give willing and loving heed.
He stands irresolute— afraid;
The courage that inspired, is gone!
The sympathetic eyes of the one within
Rest kindly upon this queer apparition
In dirt and rags! Then in broken ex-
Of slave dialect, comical,
Pitiful, a voice begs to enter!
Little freed slave! We recognize
As we gather the whole picture —
Past and present, the utter desolation
Settling like clouds of blight on tnorn-
Then as tender plant, hurt, trod on, al-
He survives, with an upward bound
And turns to the light!
The Teacher's Field.
Yes, 'tis nearly school-time, children —
Our restless little band:
The morning hours are gliding by
As you around us stand;
You came with sweetest ofi'erings —
The sweetest Flora knows,
With fragrant plants from garden beds;
From hedge, the pure wild rose.
Your paths anear the grain fields lay —
Their wealth by wavelets stirred,
And voices blending tenderly
Were all the sounds we heard;
It was good to hear your shouting
And happy prattling talk,
As you, hurrying hither, came
Running too glad to walk —
llunning in to meet your teachers
Whose love you knew you had,
A' d ev'ry face was beautiful
In innocency clad.
Musing! Soon we thought, the reapers
Moved on by human skill
Will slash amidst the waving grain
And clip the golden frill^
Will mow in long and graceful sweeps
This nodding headed wheati
Teachers have a different tield,
But every class must reap 1 1
The school-child's love's a coi-onal
For all of us to wear;
And sowing precious seeds of thought
Kequires a Christian care.
In closing! We'll turn to Marys
Crowding about our feec;
Of the names to woman given
None more honored — sweet;
They are as young and tender vines —
(Needing a guidance, truel)
— All these Marys, Sarahs, .Annies,
And strong-willed brothers too —
— These, little ;«^«— boys of promise
So separate in aims,
And differing in intellect
As well as christened names.
One is a Benjamin Franklin- -
And another, a boy
(As unlike '"Old Hickory" though
As grief contrasts with joy)
Is christened for Andrew Jacksonll
O in life's destinies
May he disarm urLrighteousness
With an iron will, like his\
While this Benjamin Franklin, with
No celebrated kite
To send on message to the clouds
To catch electric light,
Has won an honored place right here
As he with book and slate
Stepped to his long accustomed seat
In boyhood's merry gait.
Every school is rich in records-
Its lights and shadows known;
And now around these scattered flocks
Are strong reflections thrown:
Let Teachers lend assistance timely
In hope, and love and prayer.
Remembering the weakest lambs
Need most a shepherd's care.
Oak Tree School.
(In Camden, Delaware)
We see in reminiscent thought —
In visions sweet and true
The Old Oak Tree— the neat brick walk
That guideth yet into
The quiet hall, and then up stairs —
The latch seems in one's hand;
But pause! There's been a lapse of
Ah, can we understand
That every pupil now within
To us is new — is strange?
Then here is where we must begin
To realize the change!
'Tis idle to call the sweetly fair,
In dear and childish grace
To come to us as though a year
Had scarcely run its race —
To look for one familiar smile
From our own Camden girls --
For Susan's pleasant ways the while,
And Annie's sunny curls —
For the gay contagious laugh
Of that once loyal band.
Though oft it seems in kind behalf
They yet around us stand.
We've come to see how sadly deep
The cruelty appears
Wakening the ''seven sleepers' "sleep
Of near two hundred years!
Three long decades our records make
Since we were there in youth —
And wonderful as we awake
And realize the truth!
How can we ever bear to meet
Changes jn the ones we love,
To find the little racing feet
\.n grown- up stations move. —
To find for childhood's careless grace
(In willful pathways led)
Here now, a woman's thoughtful face
And sober ways, instead!
Oh can we ever understand
As we these scenes, recall?
Would almost ask clairvoyant hand
To trace the ways of all:
A few, we've learned, like lillies fair
In the dew and bloom of life
Were gathered home from scenes of
And disturbing strife:
And one, they tell us, wand' ring roams
In mineral mining, delves:
Others, (a few) have made them homes
And joys unto themselves.
But what of the many— of those
Of whom we've lost the track?
The written search light seldom thz-ows,
Its revelations back !
Watching beside a fevered brow
On restless pillows tossing,
I saw(glancing at the stars) how
The weary nit^ht was passing!
Slumber had found the suffering one
Ere Sol was fairly risen,
And I (the watcher's duties done)
Saw, was it a vision?
Trancending every human thought
With angel presence thrilling,
And all the space around, about
The greatest peace was filling!
All disappointments unextinguished .
Lost every reach of sadness;
The dearest hopes could be relinquished
For this celestial gladness —
For this benediction — lumination rare
Draught of joy elysian!
Behold the mental clouds oft called
Vanished with the vision!
Out in the Country.
We wonder at times what the world is
We who are staying' rig-ht nere
Watching plants in garden and truck
And the blossoms around us sweetly
In the Spring- of the year.
We trace colors on wings (beautiful
In the families of birds:
We investigate nests, and bird compan-
With healthful interests, in these dom-
So unlearned in words.
Often we pause in the summer's unrests
.lust to listen to a dove!
Oh is every home what wisdom invests
As full of joy as the robin redbreast's
In unfaltering love?
Many a life like our own, in this quiet
Is peacefully passing along-
Untouched by the noise— the madden-
ing riot —
Untouched by the wild tumultuous spirit
Of the restless throng.
We love the sweetness of our seclusions
Amid meadows and lanes,
Partially free from outside intrusions
That wreck the mind with heartless
And mental strains!
'Tis near the eve of Valentine's —
Already Cupid sings;
In sentimental modest shrines
We seem to hear the wings
Of angels flying to and fro
With messages so sweet,
We long and love to see them go
And come as friendships meet.
They will bear from east to the west —
From farm to town, forsooth
What oft before hath been expressed —
A sweet continued truth!
And as ye fly, bright angels, oh.
Upon your joyous way
Some one will send a billet doux
With words such only say.
But scorn a comic libel passed
For so sweet a flower;
No bitterness in language dressed
These dainty notes should mar!
That is all. Fly on — serenely on
With tender loving lines,
And let the breath of truth be borne
In scattering Valentines.
Children are running by from school
In skip and shout and play;
And now their noisy nonsense
We're stopping to survey.
We too, a worn out schedule hold.
Each name once more, let's note
And gather up the threads of life
As they before us float!
One name recalls a winsome face,
How oft we've thought of her;
Bug now her happy laughing life
Like school day dream, is o'er!
She went away in girlhood bloom,
A vision of surprise
While sunshine of approaching years
Seemed sparkling- in her eyes.
A little way she trod these paths —
A few short years at best
Then chose a Kansas pioneer
And moved with him "out west"
Whether her life were sad or sweet
No line or word reveals.
The most of it to us seems like
A book with seveti seals]
Except that from that western land
Where she a home had sought
Back to the old ancestral roof
A motherless babe was brought!
One broken seal! How short that life
And yet perhaps 'twas long
In pages finely written o'er
In pleasant scenes among.
Days short and sweet in life may be
Most i'hai-ininj>\ hapi>y, tnie —
Hold more than lonj>- and ti'ivial year;
With nothings runninj>' throuyhl
So let those chapters be unread
And all the dreams unknown
Of this one flower of the Spring
(.Julled ere fully ])lownI
The Pearl of Great Price.
I thought of the fashion prevailing
In descriptions of gowns —
The festooning, frilling and trailing,
And the twinkling with stones.
But our g'ems are dew-drops on glumes
Of this blossoming grass:
While fruits and grains are gladdening
— Enhancing loveliness.
There's the rubicelle, amethyst, pearl
In each lapidist's show —
There is sapphire, emerald, beryl
That scintillate and glow.
But Time's too precious to be wa sted
Too long on things like these:
The world needs workers afar and near
In its philanthropies —
Calling into light from ways of sin,
And helping weak mankindl
The g'em of value, that I would win
Is perfect peace of mind.
The Sarah Levinia.
On the banks of the peaceful Delaware —
— Phe beautiful Delaware bay.
Sat once, a restful company, watching
The shimmering of waves at play.
The gentlest billows rolling and tossing
In their ebb and flow all day.
Sea g'ulls. silent, came down in the sun-
With wings white and gray, spread-
And vessels moved onward to the ocean
On breast of the moving tide.
So airily and gallantly sailing
As though touched with human pride .
A few years before, a new-rigged vessel
Came glancing and floating along,
While upon its star-board, or frontal bar
Plain and unmistakably strong
Was printed clearly "The Sarah
Untold and unsung in song.
liut it unfolds a touching history —
A history enwreathed in charms
Fur while the .schooner was l)cing
Its owner, through calm and stornu-.
As became overseeing the workmen
Carried in his loving arms
His beautiful and interesting baliy —
A delicate blue-eyed one,
And as she came in amidst the builders.
Screened from harsh breezes and the
They strove each for her meri-y en-
So tenderly begun.
Now when the vessel had reached its
Then the workmen in one acclaim
Declared the schooner which they had
Should wear the baby's name.
And in its launching were heard their
This kind decree, proclaim.
So ''The Sarah Levinia" (that vessel)
In commerce plowed its way.
While the maiden grew on to woTian-
Holding — weilding her sway:
And these lines on the shrine of aft'ection
As an offering / lav.
We will call this babe Virginia —
This tiny blue-eyed one,
A child without a record in
Her journey just begun I
We'll name her our Virginia—
Ours in memory sweet
Of as lovely, loving a child
As e'er in life we meet —
— One whose pure attractive childhood
So often we recall.
Ready to dispense a kindness
With kindly cheer for all:
Would that there were more axih
In all our homes astir.
So this one we'll name Virginia
In memory of her.
Yes, of her whose eyes were love —
A dower of ebon hue,
Black as a raven's glossy wings!
This little one's are bluel
Though we call this child Virginia
Yet we cannot dower
These eyes with the same magnetic
And loving power.
We are watching with the parents
In deep solicitude
All the wonderful unfoldings
Of a human bud!
We believe in the expressions
That mark the human brow,
And in tones that may be copied
With an influence now.
These may return in premiums
Of joyfulness complete —
May come laden back to parents
Refreshing — even sweetl
O, blessed are the attributes
Of filial kindness — true I
These fill children's eyes with beauty
Whether black or blue!
Stay friends: do not sleep so early
This calm and starry night —
Cast aside the spell of slumber
And catch a wondrous sight!
There's a stranger in the heavens
With his luminous train
Following a northward pathway
Where constellations reign!
There is Lyra in the zenith
In unmeasured heights:
And Pleiades in splendor now
Hangs out her fretted lights;
While our own wandering planets
Revolving in the sky
Are casting lines of beauty down
For every watching eye.
But here's a stranger — new^-com.er.
A mystic thing outright,
Sweeping the very firmament
Upon the wings of night.
He may travel on and onward
A thousand years or more
Ere he returns to Earth's blue skies—
This wondrous visitor.
What brings hi)n hither — his missionV
A marvelous surprise!
Arresting oh, the attention
Of our startled eyes!
Astrologer! does he portend
Some evil for the Earth?
Does that stern stranger in the sky
Approach with breath of wrath?
Much is learned and much unknown
Of things right here below;
Wisdom Supreme will grant the Light
For all we ought to know!
On Sharon's tan-walks we bade to each
(Our dear alumni in an eastern school)
Planning to meet again in a year or two;
Our aspirations and dreamings beautiful
But the wheels of Time are changeable!
Now hei*e in the closing of the fourth
Since parting then at dear old Sharon's
With all our varied burdens measured
Two of us meet for the first, once more —
Forty years of interval — two score!
We meet in the west— a surprise to us
And wonderfully changed in counte-
Yet Margaret's dark eyes, hold as in
A depth of power from inheritance,
And magnetic in every glance.
What'er these years have brought to
us, or taken —
Wrenched from our lives, or added to,
Whatever surface friends have long
Or which throughout have proven true,
All are settled now, and in review —
We find the jewels of most enduring-
Of priceless value unto all.
Are the deeds of kindness, of forbear-
A clearer faith in life that's spiritual,
A help and strength that cannot fail.
A Bird in Winter.
'Twas a jay at noon that caught our
Lazily afloat in air:
Its life seemed linked with the misty
Our interests awoke, afresh, anew
As we traced its pathway there.
But what sent it thus abroad to-day —
This lone bird of graceful wing?
Was it to foreknow in its instinct way —
To detect as the early robin may
A sign of the far-off Spring?
More likely to fathom sounds of storm
By our dull ears unheard,
A kind of signal service, or alarm
That jjrotects most wisely from threat-
The little winter bird.
How short the years seem now, and on
In sure processions go —
Planting about our temples, one by one.
Threads as white as snow!
What though we tread more slowly now
this year —
Tread leisurely along?
The push of business life afar and near
Should hold the young and strong:
But we have won the right to see ahead,
Through long experience —
Gained a higher niche for each silver
In paths where we advance;
And we have won the light to see just
The poor neglectives stand-
How they're blinded by the delusive
In the Deceiver's hand!
But here and there in Ufe -above the
Are sure to climb the best of all!
And these years and years as they glide
Will place the coronal.
In Time of Drouth.
Where is the rain cloud
While nature is suffering with thirst?
Heavy with dust, the leaves:
The stunted buds refuse to burst —
The rain-dove vainly grievesi
Oh rain-cloud I
The maple lifts her little palms
Beseechingly on high:
No answer from the blue dome
No soothing sounds reply.
Rain, rain cloud.
The hot dry earth is cracked in seams
Like fevered parching lips:
And slower glide the shallow streams
From which the wild bird sips.
O, listenl Hearkenll
There is a blissful, blissful sound
Splashing the window pane:
Give thanks faint heart, give thanks
For, this the later rain I
On the Parable of the
The thought that's cherished will thrive
And blossom into deedsl
Let us watch the gardens which we sow
That nothing vile be creeping through
(Jut choking precious seed I
Kept in off the Streets.
It was only a sand-box, broad and long,
Partly filled with clean white sand,
So clean that it need not soil or stain
The whitest little hand.
A father placed it where his two young
Were allowed all day to roam;
Bringing thus a sort of sea-side beach
Anear their cozy home.
And like a bounding step on the Sea-
A dream of the sea— the sea,
Was this delving — tumbling of children
Happy as childhood could be.
The passers, passing, must surely have
As thoughtful people do,
To notice this innocent rollicking
And unendingly new.
Whereby these children detained at
In a sensible beautiful way.
Were thus kept from th ^ street's rough
In safe contented play.
We see today through restful eyes-
Through glad and blessed vision,
Dissolving views across the skies
From zenith to horizon.
We see new prospects everywhere
Enrolled — enwreathed in splendor:
And we enjoy our leisure rare
"Mid woodland blossoms, tender.
A flower belated in the bud
Is wondrously expanding,
Leading to kindoms ever good
To human undei'standing.
We're free tO'day from worries laid
In hurried life's existence,
And yet we hear the hum of trade
Through all this pleasant distance.
Let's leave for once, all care behind
As though its clamors cease:
Eajoy to-day, an unburdened mind —
A true and holy peace,
The Roadside Daisy.
It lives where much that's loved, would
By culture's hand unled;
Though crushed by feet that pass it by,
It lifts a bruised head!
'Twill rise again— its life resume-
Put forth its blossoms fair
'Twill rise, and live, and bud and bloom
Unknown to tender care.
Can we not learn from Flora's gifts —
Her bright neglected plants,
To find the strength that yet uplifts
Through all discouragements?
Awake with the sweet and breezy
In her crowning' and her blossoming:
But this one poor plant's uninteresting!
And awake too, through summery hours
But seemingly sleeping, with powers
Dormant in the season of flowers.
Now Autumn is Jiere; her caressing
Is frost over plant life pressing
A new and wonderful dressing.
Sweetly scented petals, dewy and tender
Have wilted — i^erished like tAvigs on
But crysanthemum is rising in splendorl
Then Spirit, oh soul in a living hunger
Succumb to discouragements, frowns no
The frail reed may bend, but its life is
Tread the paths quietly, where duty
Every cloud may pass, that now appal'
Gather brightness where'er the sun^
Outlooks may seem hopeless in life-
But oft wonderful is the awakening
Of sleeping powers, that bitter trials
Charms of Winter in the
Not the dreary coldness
Not the driving blast.
But the snowy mantle
When the night storm's passed -
The soft and snowy mantle, found
With drooping twigs all wet.
And ^11 the heavy plumes around
With myriad star-gems set.
Not the cheerless portal,
Not the tireless hearth,
But the blessed households
Rich in hope and mirthi
Snow Flake, hangup thy crystals -blaze
Reflected beauty's shown
In answer to the sun's first rays
Sent from the golden throne!
Not the boisterous voices
Not the ribald tongue,
But the deep inquirings —
Minds awake and young
Asking- concerning silences
So rapt and deeply still —
The meaning of the mysteries
That seem all space to fill!
Not the noise of cities
Not the rush on streets
But the daily interests
The quiet eoun'^ry keeps;
And may it keep in usefulness
The life it cradles here,
To grow, expand, to help— to bless
All life within its sphere!
Tennyson And His Young
Agnes Grace Weld, niece of the Eng-
lish poet, gives in a small book an ac-
count of her uncle's religious belief in
wbich these words occur: "God is with
us now on this down as we are walking
together." I said to nim (writes the
iiuthor of the booklet) that I thought
such a near actual presence would be
awful to most ppople. The uncle in his
answer said: "I should be sorely afraid
to live my life without God's presence;
Taut to feel that he is by my side now
just as you are, is the joy of my heart."
"I'd sorely fear to live my life" from
In passing through the scenes of Time!
To know that God is near "is the joy
of my heart."
Tennyson's words are here, sublime,
For what cou]d this existence without
a Savior be;
A maze of wretched solitude —
Oh like helpless boats adrift, on the
With none to help— no Savior, God!
But joy, joy oo feel an all-living Pres-
Directing in our doubt, the way!
And although our lot most humble may
It is grand— great, as we obey'.
We were glad when the scent of our
Crept la at our open doors.
While we strolled around restfully,
The first faint glow of stars.
And glad we can see from our grounds,
Of the sunset sky at night,
When the soft warn air is sweet — all
Our hearts in hushed delig'ht.
And glad we enjoy so fully the surround-
Enlightened by nature's hand.
In the grace of promising ci'ops abound-
For minds that understand.
Thankful too that clouds of pain have
As chaff from winnowing cast:
And the weary sleepless watching
Replaced by unburdened rest.
Thankful for the care of a bountiful Giver
In whose love our lives flow on.
Approaching a likeness to the peaceful
Within a garden bevond.
Let the Baby Sleep.
Let the winsome sleeping baby rest
His little dimpled hands softly pressed
About his gently heaving breast,
Innocent as any ro-e unblown.
He needs deepest love-that parents know
And the tenderest they can bestow
Since he will surely grow and grow
Through Influences around him thrown I
Then ere ho attains to man's estate
Remove glaring pitfalls, small and
Remove thera ere it be too late
Your child of promise to protectl
Remove the saloons that so entice
That lead the young to wrong — tovicel
Beside his cradle, take your choice
A good man, or one in bar-rooms
Sweet Pea Blossoms.
"I'll name my favorite flowers;
(We listened to a childish voice)
Pansles In loveliest colors
Are always my choice."
"Not mine (the voice of another)
Mine is the fresh bud of a rose."
Thus archly, sister and brother,
Each, a favorite chose.
Further on, a shaded border
Evolved swe-et clambering peas,
Dispensing nectareous odor
Stirred by the wings of the bees.
Perfection, though terrestrial
Seemed In all the petals born,
Emblems of types celestial
In humble glory worn.
And here the etherial essence
With its elevating powers
Led the children to a presence
C>f love for all the flowers.
Listen! 'tis a I'obin s power
In this blessed morning hour.
Calling to her own!
Yet others than her tender brood
Are listening with heart subdued —
Others than her own-
Since human ear hath caught the sound
Floating on the air around —
Melody of love!
And we join in, and sou's uprise
Mingling reverent prayer with praise
To Infinite Love!
Interpret true, these tender songs
Where grace ineffable belongs,
And enjoyment— joy:
Only a little bird, yet hear—!
Gladness floats to the Eternal Ear —
The nest may be on an apple limb
But onwai'd floats a warbler's hymn,
And heed farmer, heed.
Harm not the bird, nor mud-lined nest
For she's our friend * be this impressed,
The farmer's friend indeed.
* By actual observation it is learned
that a robin ia leeding her youog con-
sumed in one week 1000 cut worms.
Written for the children learning about birds,
What sort of a carpenter is there
Hammering-, hammering" away
Just on the outside of our windows
And just at the peep of day?
He's up in the eaves of the bouse:
What sort o: a hammer has he?
Get up children, awaken, awaken-
Quietly— Let's see.
Its the flicker: we've caught him:
He never has driven a nail!
A funny little carpenter, surely,
And tha^t hammer's his bill.
^'Twitter, twitter" "Tis five o'clock.
Do you hear the Ljatinee?
And the chorus grows much sweeter
"Phoabe, peewee, peewee."
Aslant from the sum there creeps- a goldr
And the fluttering of leaflets now is seen
Where this vision of beauty is quiver-
''Phoebe, peewee, peewee."
That little dream of air that scarcely
Has touched a bursting rose-bud washed
O loveliest morn! Is Time born anew?
Thus purely and sweetly dawns this day,
The sleepy little birds, (my choristers)
With a benediction unto her that hears,
The Blue Jay.
Our great blue jay, with an easy swing
Floats out from the cedar's covering;
Through the orchard and about the yard
There flies no brighter -more noticed
Such a sweeping of blue as he flies —
Such a tint of summery skies.
But his music I That is coarse we own-
No tenderness in his garrulous tone
Not one plain little warbler, we note
Would change its voice for a blue jay's
Its song is a bird's sweet dower,
Like scent is die charm of a flower.
Instruction is here for us who would
These lessons of value to discern —
To understand beyond first siglit
The revelations of a latent light,
For beauty may not always grace
The dearest and the sweetest face,
Around the Evening Lamp '.i
A Dri ve i o Town o
A Trilob;te n
Autumn Leaves 7
A Winter Storm '.t
Among the Native Wild Flowers 13
A S.)ni)et for .lune 14
Along the Buffalo 15
A Litt'e Lesson 18
Awaken, Farmer 20
A Chi d Oraior 20
Amongst the Freed men 21
A Vision .... 24
A V alentine 24
A Comet 26
A Bird i.i Winter 2(5
A Liamble 27
By Their Fruits 21
(. harms of Winter in the Country 28
Echoes f i"om Kansas 2
Early Birds 18
Friends' Meeting House 7
Free Gifts 18
Giving Thanlis 8
In Autumn 7
Invalid Life 1<>
In Memoriam: J . H 19
In Memory of J. P 19
In Time of Drouth 27
Jane Grey Swisshelm 1
Kept in off the Streets 27
Let the Baby Sleep 29
Mav ' 1-5
My Thrush 15
Oak Tree School 23
Out in the Country 24
On the Parable of the Sower 27
Rural rflessings 12
Summer Evening Thoughts 2
Singing at Sunrise '3
Spare the Birds 15
Sweet Pea Blossoms 29
The Snow Finch 8
The Closing Year 8
The Wild Hen 9
The Beer Cup 10
The Old Libertv Bell 12
The Little Estrav 13
The Teacher's Field 22
The Pearl of Great Price 2o
The Sarah Levinia 2o
The Roadside Daisy 28
Tennvson and his Young Niece -8
The Flicker. ^0
The Blue Jay ^0
Unread Chapters -^
Visiting the Old Home Va'leys 1]
Wild A^iolets .;+
Years - '